


MarianSue: An SG-15 Sex Fantasy

by delphia2000



Category: Stargate Atlantis, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Humor, Multi, SG-15
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-29
Updated: 2011-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-23 05:26:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/246734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/delphia2000/pseuds/delphia2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ficlet for the Library Week challenge by nialla42<br/>Contains required: Dewey Decimal System mentioned not in library, one scene in Library<br/>Also contains: slash, het, fandoms SG1/SGA using the AU team SG15</p>
            </blockquote>





	MarianSue: An SG-15 Sex Fantasy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [SG-15](https://archiveofourown.org/works/59643) by [dvs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dvs/pseuds/dvs). 



Martouf hummed quietly to himself as he lit the candles in his quarters. Even though Dave frequently teased him about the romantic atmosphere, Marty knew his team leader appreciated the effort. It also seemed like a good way to make up for leaving the door open the last time, but the Tok'ra have no personal taboos or doors and who knew Dr. Weir stayed up that late. In her defense, she did say she honestly thought she heard a Wraith sucking someone dry and her apologies were very sincere. She certainly was a skilled diplomat. Still, she had taken to calling Dave 'GI Jayne' occasionally and Dixon was getting a bit pissy about it.

Dave had sent him a note to expect a surprise tonight, which had him a bit concerned. Dixon's ideas about what would constitute a surprise were usually horrific and sometimes close to fatal, if not at least explosive. However, he had promised that even Lantash would be pleased, which suited Martouf quite well. The two had been sniping at each other for far too long.

*I do not snipe. I editorialize.* Lantash informed him.

*It sounds like sniping from this side.* Martouf thought back to him. *The editorial about the Tau'ri scientist Darwin was completely out of line however close to the truth it may be. And name-calling is beneath you.*

*I didn't.*

*You did. You referred to him as the 'legendary missing link.'*

Lantash sulked a bit. *He liked it.*

*Yes, until Dr. McKay explained it to him. Lantash, you know how much I care about Dave. He has many fine qualities.*

*He has a hot body and a big dick.*

*Your point?*

*Point taken,* Lantash grudgingly accepted. *They are his finest qualities.*

*I thought you preferred his penchant for taking sucker bets. At any rate, please, for tonight, try to get along. Appreciate whatever effort he is making on your behalf.* Martouf begged his inner alien.

There was a reluctant assent on the part of the symbiote so Martouf turned to more pressing matters as he searched for some lube. Sheppard had been taking advantage of Marty's usually unlocked door to help himself to the Tok'ra's bedside supplies, claiming their lubricants tasted better than Tau'ri concoctions. He wanted to make sure there would be something at hand for Dave since last time he'd left it up to Dixon, they had mistakenly used something called 'Vick's VapoRub' which had burned like Sokar's planet. Lantash and Dave both rather liked the sensation, but Martouf preferred not to repeat the experiment.

Lube found and Dave's favorite beverage chilling, Martouf slipped into Dave's favorite outfit. The man had a thing for leather pants, tight enough to threaten circulation, but for Dave, Marty was willing to tuck and stuff.

There was a brief tap at the door before Dave kicked it open with his boot. "Honey, I'm home!" he called cheerfully as he staggered in, his arm wrapped around the shoulders of a woman.

Marty blinked. This was the surprise? It wasn't surprising Dave was half-crocked, but company on one of their 'special' nights? The woman was petite and had a nicely rounded figure, blond hair and glasses, quite attractive if one liked that type. Martouf preferred a different type…one with a penis instead of tits. Lantash, however, hummed pleasantly.

"Um…hello, " he nodded to her.

Dave kicked the door shut behind him. "This is Marian. Marian, meet Marty. Marty, Marian…MMMM, hey, that's onomatopoeia!"

"No, that's alliteration," she corrected him. "Hiya, Marty. So where's the other guy? You promised me a fourgy."

Dave grinned widely and Martouf knew what was coming next. Dixon took perverse pleasure in shocking people with the eye-flashing Tok'ra symbiote taking over their host body. "Lantash, meet Marian."

The symbiote rushed forward with a flash, his deep voice resonating in their chest, "Greetings."

Apparently, Lantash was now also enjoying the same perverse shock factor as Dixon. Finding common ground was a good thing, even if it was a slightly mean trick, Martouf thought.

"Holy shit," exclaimed Marian, taking a step back, smacking into Dixon's chest as he guffawed.

"Do not be alarmed," Lantash reassured her, "I am Tok'ra."

He took her hand and, bowing gracefully, kissed it, all the while covertly leering down her cleavage. "Sorry, I just wasn't expecting…so you're the fourth guy?" she asked with a smile. "I heard one of the teams had a Tok'ra on board, but I've never met one. This is a pleasure. So, Marty is in there too? Marty? That's a Tok'ra name? I'm babbling, aren't I?"

Lantash smiled. "Charmingly so. My host is Martouf; he is also here and equally charmed. Col. Dixon takes the liberty of calling him Marty. May I ask where you met the colonel?"

"In the stacks, in the 500's," she answered as she drew herself up proudly. "I'm a librarian."

"I see. The 500's?"

"That's the Dewey Decimal System," Dixon told him. "I was in the Zoology section. You know, like worms?"

Lantash glared at him. "Yes, I have heard of that system. Very elegant for such an undisciplined race. And I would have thought you would have been in the 533's looking up Gas Mechanics in an effort to improve your…personal hygiene."

"600's for that. 613 to be precise," Marian offered. "Promotion of health."

Redirecting his attention, Lantash beamed at Marian, "You must reside in the 700's along with all the other works of Art, my dear," as he pulled her closer. "Would you care for a beverage? 641 classification, I believe. We have Col. Dixon's favorite, Mudder's Milk."

Dave was already pouring glasses of the toxic brew and handed one to Marian who sniffed it carefully before taking a small sip. "Very like the beer given to Ancient Egyptian slaves…filed in 932…a sort of liquid bread…"

"Yeah, yeah," cut in Dave, chugging his glassful. "Heard that. Are we ready to get naked yet?"

"395, Colonel. Mind your manners," Lantash chastised.

"687," Marian said, handing Dixon her unfinished drink and her glasses before slowly unbuttoning her blouse.

Dixon came up behind her and helped her ease out of the garment while Lantash nibbled her neck. "What's 687?" he asked.

"Clothing," she murmured, reaching back to unbuckle his belt. "And 685 for leather."

Marian proved herself both creative and flexible as they divested themselves of their outfits and crawled onto the bed, licking and fondling themselves into a fury of arousal. Twins in enthusiasm, the men were opposites in appearance. Dixon was all power, bulk and delightfully hairy while Lantash's lean strength was smooth as silk to the touch. "611," Marian murmured, appreciating all the masculine human anatomy.

"754, you are still a work of art" corrected Lantash, romantically before kissing her 154 senseless.

"618," said Dixon as slid down her body to bury his tongue in her nether regions.

Lantash sank himself in the warm depths of her mouth and let Martouf take over to tell Marian that her moans were in the 780's with the rest of the music. It was Lantash who finally plunged into the 574's of biology with Marian below him while Dixon came into him from behind. Lantash slowed his thrusting to let Martouf enjoy the feel of Dave buried balls deep in them while they were impaling the spirited librarian. "Ahhh," groaned Dave, "625!"

"Trains?" asked Marian.

"I don’t know where Legos would be filed," confessed Dave, as he stroked a little faster.

"691, building materials perhaps," Marian groaned as Martouf leaned over to suck on a rosy nipple.

"510," Lantash/Martouf suggested, mumbling a bit with his mouth full. "Mathematics. One goes into one goes into one…..aaaahhhhhhh!"

"126!" Dave shouted, pumping furiously. "Me, me, me!"

Lantash took over to thrust them deeper and elicited an expression from Marian that could only be filed under 811 as poetry. Finally, in a great climax that bordered on 662 with the explosives, Marian screamed out, "231, ohgodohgodohgod!"

The three collapsed in a heaving, sweaty tangle of limbs. "Ummmm….I think we can file that in the 790's with the performing arts," said Marian.

****************

Martouf visited Marian in her library the next day. "I had a most enjoyable evening," he complimented her. "However, Lantash wonders if you would interested in a date with just him. He mentioned something about several other classifications we hadn't fully explored yet. 944, for instance…French. And 572…the human races. I believe he's feeling 538. Magnetism. "

She smiled. "That would be very nice. We do seem to have some 540…chemistry."

"You won't mind not including Colonel Dixon then?"

"He's lovely fun, but let's face it; he thought 365 Penal institutions were sex clubs. I won't even go into his thoughts on 477, Vulgar Latin. Besides, after what I saw last night, I think he'd rather be with you, Martouf. Do you mind Lantash and I being together?"

"We are of one mind on many subjects, including 176, the ethics of sex. We both enjoy exploration and experimentation."

Marian patted his hand, "We'll see if we can work our way up to 999, extraterrestrial worlds then."

Martouf thanked her and went looking for his team leader. *I can hear your thoughts* Lantash told him. *Even you think he's a man-ape-gone-wrong-thing.*

Martouf mentally shrugged. *But he's MY man-ape. All mine.*

*Ours* accepted Lantash.

The End


End file.
